


Shot

by Accident, detafo



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Hurt John Watson, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, RP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27934228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accident/pseuds/Accident, https://archiveofourown.org/users/detafo/pseuds/detafo
Summary: John gets shot. Will he remember Sherlock?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28
Collections: Detafo RP Collabs





	Shot

**Author's Note:**

> My second RP with Detafo is now up! Enjoy!
> 
> Words like *this* are italics.

Sherlock feels John push him out of the way as a shot rings out across the room. He grunts as he hits the floor. "JOHN!" He screamed.

John manages to get a shot off as he’s hit, collapsing to the ground.

Sherlock takes John's Browning and shoots the assailant in the throat, before scrambling to John. "John..." He panted, pressing a hand to John's thigh. "Stay awake, John.... Please?"

“S-Sherlock.. Press hard.” John slurs, the bullet having torn through his artery causing a massive bleed. “Ambulance.”

Sherlock pressed hard to the wound, stemming the flow. The other hand unwound his scarf and tied it tightly around John's leg as a makeshift tourniquet. Dialling as quickly as possible, bloody fingers slipping over buttons, he rang for an ambulance, relaying the information. Keeping the 999 operator on his phone, he bit his lip. "John, stay with me.... Stay..." He pleads.

“Is okay, lock.” John mumbles, eyes getting heavy. “You did good..”

"John! No!" Sherlock slapped John's cheek. "Stay awake! You can do it!" The wail of sirens began to cut through the night.

“Mm love.” John blinks heavily.

Sherlock lets tears run down his cheeks as the paramedics and Lestrade's men break down the door. He growled at Lestrade when the detective tries to talk to him and ignores the paramedics saying he can't ride in the ambulance with John.

John slips in and out of consciousness.

Later, as John is taken from surgery to recovery, Sherlock paces, itching for a cigarette.

“Want to come outside for a bit of fresh air?” Greg asks, having not left Sherlock this whole time. “You’re starting to wear a path on the floor.”

Sherlock clenched his teeth and followed Greg outside. "He's out of surgery... Why won't they let me see him?!" He looks at Greg, fear in his eyes.

“Because he lost a lot of blood. They need to make sure he doesn’t get an infection so they have to keep people out. When he’s out of the ICU then you can see him.” Greg says softly. He digs around in his pocket and pulls out an old pack of cigarettes. “Emergency smoke?”

Sherlock took the proffered cigarette. "John would flay you alive for giving me this." He muttered, but he leaned forward for a light, anyway, wrinkling his nose. "Low tar." He muttered.

“Yes well when he wakes up you can tell him and he can chew me out.” Greg hums. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

"As soon as he's able, I'm taking him home and you won't be disturbing us until he feels he's ready." Sherlock bit out, still shaking.

“Sherlock, he’s going to have to heal. He might even need some rehab.” Greg says softly.

Sherlock slumped onto the bench and put his head in his hands, tugging at unruly, disheveled curls. "I know." He whispered. "I don't want to lose him, Greg... Not like this, not ever."

“It’s alright. He’s strong. He lives with you after all.” Greg teases gently, squeezing Sherlock’s shoulder.

Sherlock presses his lips together and wraps his coat securely around himself, like a security blanket.

“He’ll be okay.” Greg nods.

"How do you know?" Sherlock mumbles. "Platitudes are all well and good, Lestrade, but *how do you know*?" He sniffles.

“Because John Watson wouldn’t leave you unless it was kicking and screaming.”

"Mr Holmes?" A Northern accent interrupts them. "They're taking him to a private room now. Care to come along?" The nurse asked patiently. Sherlock threw his cigarette down, crushing the butt and following her into the secure door.

John lays in his bed, hooked up to monitors. His leg is heavily bandaged with weighted blankets on it. The anesthesia was still wearing off.

Sherlock sat down beside John, in the uncomfortable hospital chair, taking John's hand, squeezing gently. "Oh, John..." He murmurs.

John hums softly, his grip weak but there.

Sherlock lays his head on the mattress, nuzzling John's hand. "Please be all right..." He whispers.

John mumbles softly, slowly pulling out of the anesthesia. He slowly opens his eyes, looking around.

Sherlock nuzzles his hand again, sighing softly. "John?" He whispers.

“Mm?” John swallowed thickly.

"John..." Sherlock is relieved. "You're awake."

“Drink.” John mumbles, throat dry.

Sherlock fumbles with the water jug, pouring with trembling hands into a cup with a straw. Holding it, he helped John take a sip.

John takes a long sip, parched. “Thank you.” He croaks out.

"Oh, God, John... I thought I'd lost you." He whispers.

“Hey..” John says softly and squeezes the man’s hand. “It’s okay.” He couldn’t remember who this was but he obviously cared about him.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock began to cry.

John frowns. “Come here, love.” He mumbles and pulls the man into his arms. This has to be his boyfriend. It’s the only thing that explains why he’s so upset.

Sherlock snuggles into John's side, mindful of his injured leg. "I'm sorry." He whispers again and again, muffled by John's shoulder.

“It’s okay. Just breathe.” John holds Sherlock close. He kisses his curls softly.

Sherlock freezes for a moment, looking up at John. "John?" He whispers.

“What, love?” John looks at him.

Sherlock chewed his lip, watching him carefully. "You... You don't know who I am... Do you?"

John frowns. “My boyfriend?”

Sherlock's face tightens. "Oh, John..." He says. "As... As much as I wish that was true..." He chewed his lip.

“What?” John frowns.  
Before Sherlock can answer the nurse comes in to check John’s vitals.

Sherlock sits back, looking at his clasped hands. He takes a deep breath, waiting for the nurse to leave.  
"John, I.... We....." He scrubs a hand over his face. "We're flatmates... I won't deny that I wish we were more, but you've made it clear you're not interested in me that way.... And.... It's my fault you were shot." He doesn't look at John.

John frowns. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Sherlock took a deep breath. "What?"

“But you’re upset.” John shakes his head.

"I'm upset because I put you in a dangerous situation." He drew a breath. "I'm upset because I almost lost you... I'm upset that you seemingly don't remember who I am..."

“Mm anesthesia always makes my memory a little fuzzy.” John sighs.

"Fuzzy enough to forget five years?"

“When I finally worked up after my shoulder surgery I thought I was coming out of getting my wisdom teeth out as a teenager.” John sighs.

Sherlock paused and looked at him, lip quirking just a little.

“What?” John smiles a bit.

"At least you remember you were shot, I suppose. No nasty surprises.”

“That’s about where I remember from.” John shrugs. “So we’re not together?”

"I wish." Sherlock muttered softly.

“That’s too bad.” John frowns. “You’re just my type.”

Sherlock's eyes snapped up, surprise evident. "What?"

“Mmhmm. Tall, dark and handsome. Are you sure we haven’t fucked at least one?” John asks.

Sherlock swallowed thickly. "Uh-uh..." He croaked. "I would remember..." He felt his face flush.

“God, that’s really too bad.” John sighs.

Sherlock bit his lip. "I wouldn't want to take advantage of someone who doesn't remember me..." He wanted to slap himself.

“I’m sure I’ll remember you soon enough.” John grins, as handsome and charming as usual.

Sherlock huffed a laugh. "So this is "Three Continents" Watson." He murmured. "I mean..." He blushed and lowered his head again.

“You like it.” John chuckles, tipping Sherlock’s face up to look at him. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Sherlock swallows and nods. "I do." He whispers. He held out his hand to John's and smiled shyly.

John holds his hand and kisses his knuckles.

Sherlock gave the tiniest of smiles. "John..." He murmured. "Are you sure you'd want me? The things you know... You'll *remember* about me..." He hedges.

“How long have we known each other?” John asks.

"Five years, give or take..." Sherlock murmurs.

“How did we become friends? Are you a doctor? Or in the army?” John asks. “No not with those gorgeous curls.” He hums.

"I'm a consulting detective." Sherlock murmurs. "You met me five years ago in Bart's computer laboratory, when I told Mike Stamford I was looking for a flatmate, and he seemed to take it as a personal challenge..."

“Wait a minute, so we’re flatmates and we still haven’t slept together?” John blinks.

Sherlock smiled. "Do flatmates often sleep with each other?" He asked. "You were most insistent on taking the second bedroom."

“Christ, I must be losing my touch.” John groans. “Why the hell would I insist on that?”

"I... don't know." Sherlock shook his head. "We... Had only met each other the day before?"

“So? What difference would that make? If I wanted you back then the way I want you now it wouldn’t.. oh.” John says softly. “You turned me down.”

Sherlock huffed softly. "We were on a case." He murmured. "My mind was... Preoccupied... You were making conversation, I... Might have... Inadvertently turned you down... But I never felt right bringing it back up... You were happy, dating Sarah for a while, and a couple of other women..." He sighed. "I was, I *am* your best friend... I was happy to just have you in my life..." He rambles.

“How long have you been in love with me?” John asks simply.

He blinked. "Since you saved my life." He whispers.

“Yeah, me too.” John nods.

"You... Remember that night" Sherlock asks skeptically.

“I kind of remember shooting someone through a window while screaming Sherlock. I think that’s the one right? You’re Sherlock?”

He nodded. "Yes." He murmurs. "You shot a man to save my life." He bit his lip.

“He was probably a really bad man if your life was in danger.” John goes back to kissing Sherlock’s knuckles.

Sherlock chuckled softly. "You said something similar that night, too." He says, putting his other hand on John's uninjured leg.

“See? It all worked out fine then.” John smiles softly. “So you’re in love with me and if I’ve been living with you for five years having a string of unsuccessful relationships that most definitely means I’m in love with you too.”

Sherlock huffs a laugh. "Wish we'd figured that out sooner." He mumbles.

“God, so do I.” John snorts. “So are you going to finally kiss me or do I have to do that myself too?”

Sherlock sniffles softly and raises his head to look at John. "Thought you'd never ask..." He mutters, pressing his lips to John's.

John holds him close, sinking his fingers into those silky curls as he kisses Sherlock back.

Sherlock breathes deeply. "Better not get too involved." He murmurs. "Your doctor's will have me drawn and quartered for not letting you rest. You did just have major surgery."

“Worth it. So so worth it.” John nuzzles Sherlock.

Sherlock laughs softly. "I hope you won't be mad when your memory comes back fully..." He murmurs.

“Not if I get to kiss you whenever I’d like.” He smiles softly.

Sherlock smirks and brushes his lips gently across John's, before abruptly pulling away. "Piss off, Mycroft."  
"I'm merely here to check that you're both all right."  
"CCTV not good enough for your voyeuristic tendencies?" Sherlock snaps. Mycroft smiles coolly.

“Yeah, Piss off mycroft.” John snorts.

"Merely looking out for my little brother's interests." He murmured. "Glad to see you've finally gotten around to the inevitable." He turned and left.  
Sherlock swallowed and nuzzled John's cheek.

John holds Sherlock close and pets his hair. “So he’s a prat.”

"Mmm... I've been told older brothers often are." He murmurs. "Him more so than others, I'll wager."

“Seems like it.” He kisses Sherlock’s head.

Sherlock sighed. "I should probably let you rest." He mumbles. "Major surgery... a lot of blood loss... getting your blood pressure too high could call for my being ejected from the hospital until you're discharged." He smirks.

“Stay?” John asks, eyelids getting heavy again.

Sherlock nodded, sitting back in the uncomfortable chair. "Okay."

“Up here.” John pushes the covers down.

"I don't want to hurt your leg." He mumbles.

“Want you closer.” He frowns.

Sherlock smiles and sits on the edge of the bed. "As long as you're sure..."

“Always.” John holds into him.

Sherlock snuggles against him tiredly.

John falls asleep holding Sherlock.

Sherlock dozes, not wanting to fall too deeply asleep that he might hurt John.

John sleeps hard, only waking a few hours later when his pain medicine starts to wear off.

Sherlock snuffles in his doze, pressing his nose into John's hair.

“Mm Sherlock..” John groans softly.

Sherlock was instantly awake. "John?"

“Hurts.” He grits his teeth.

"I'll get the nurse." He says softly.

“Please.” He nods. Fuck his leg hurt.

Sherlock pushes the call button, stroking John's hair off his face. A nurse comes in with a top up.

“What happened?” John asks Sherlock.

Sherlock sighed softly. "You don't remember a few hours ago, do you?" He whispered.

John frowns and shakes his head.

Sherlock wants to cry. "I can't do this again..." He whispers, voice breaking. He gets off the bed and flees the room.

“Sherlock?” John tries to grab him but he’s gone.

Sherlock paces outside as he chain smokes through a fresh packet, trying not to cry.

John sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. Everything hurt.

"Dr Watson?" A nurse peeks around the door. "Everything all right?"

“I don’t know.” John sighs. “I think I did something but I can’t remember? Anesthesia always makes my memory a bit wonky.”

The nurse glanced over her shoulder. "Erm... well, you and... Mr Holmes... you were getting quite *close*, if you get my meaning..." She chewed her lip. "You woke up, seemed to forget him for a bit and...." She tilted her head to the side. "Matron was joking she might have to turn the hose on you." She gave a queer little smirk.

“Oh... oh! Oh god.” John blushes. “Is he still here?”

"He's out in the courtyard... seems to be trying to self combust, if the cigarette butts are anything to go by."

John frowns. “Can you please get him for me? I promise we’ll behave.”

The nurse nodded, heading off to find Sherlock, who was wrapped in his coat, perching on the garden bench. "Mr Holmes... Dr Watson wants to see you."  
Sherlock looked at her blankly. "He wants to yell at me."  
"No, sir... just talk. He's a bit upset with himself, I think."  
Sherlock huffed. "I'll be in in a minute."

John waits, feeling like an arse.

Sherlock finally enters the room, leaning against the wall beside the door, for a quick getaway.

“Apparently we put on quite the show for the nurses..” John says softly.

Sherlock snorts, but doesn't look at him.

“Sherlock..” John says softly, holding out his hand to him.

Sherlock looked up from under his curls. With a deep sigh, he crossed the room and took John's hand. "If you're going to forget every few hours, I don't think I can do this again, John..." He whispered.

“No. I should be good now. Hopefully.” John says softly.

Sherlock looks terrible - tired, lined, upset, and bloodshot from too many cigarettes. "How can you be sure?"

“I’m usually fine after I sleep it off a bit.” John says softly. “Tell me what happened?”

Sherlock looks at his toes. "You came out of recovery, and they put you in here... and I... I was stressed. I was apologising to you for getting you shot.... and... and you woke up.... you didn't know who I was, but assumed I was your boyfriend...." He rambles. He takes a breath. "And... it... it just went from there, really..." His face coloured, ashamed. "I should have tried harder to stop it." He mutters.

“I’m glad you didn’t..” John looks up at him.

Sherlock's breath hitches. "What?" He whispers.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” John tugs Sherlock in and kisses him.

Sherlock whimpers into John's kiss.

John holds him close as they kiss.

"John..." Sherlock whispers. "Are you sure, *really* sure, this time?" His eyes still look sad.

“I’ve wanted you this whole time. Since the beginning.” John holds him close.

Sherlock sighs softly and nuzzles his cheek. "I've wanted you too."

“Stay. Please stay.” John kisses him again.

"Yes..." He mumbles into the kiss.

He smiles against his lips.

"You should sleep." He murmurs a bit later. "The drugs should be working, now."

“Mm don’t go.” John slurs a bit.

"You asked me that, before." Sherlock smiled. "But all right... I won't. Sleep, John."

John hums softly and falls asleep.

Sherlock runs a hand up and down his arm to help him fall asleep, and begins to doze again.

A few days later John was released from the hospital. Getting up the stairs was hard but he managed with Sherlock’s help. “I don’t think we’ll be able to get up to my room.”

"That's why I transferred most of your things to my room... you can have it until you're better." He said softly. "I'll.... I'll take the couch, or even your room."

“I don’t want to put you out.” John frowns.

"It's fine, John... it was either this or you sleeping on Mrs H's fold out.... and I know how you hate the smell of potpourri." He smiles.

“It just makes me sneeze so bad.” John chuckles.

"Exactly... so you'll take my room until your leg is healed properly." He murmured, pressing a kiss to John's hair. "Please, John... I'm the reason you got shot. Let me fix it in any way I can."

“I pushed you out of the way so technically it’s my fault I got shot.” John says softly. “Stay with me. Your bed is big enough for the two of us.”

Sherlock's breath hitches again. "Are... are you sure? I really, *truly* don't want to hurt you more than I already have, physically..."

“You won’t. You can sleep on my good side and it’ll be all good.” John nods.

Sherlock looked up at him. "You still... you still want me to sleep next to you even after you.... you remembered everything?"

“I mean I would have liked to take you to dinner first before getting into bed together.” John chuckles softly.

Sherlock cocks an eyebrow. "Well, let's be fair. We've been to Angelo's *how* many times?"

“You’re right but I was thinking more of an official date.” John smiles.

Sherlock chuckles. "Let's just get you well again, and off those crutches, hmm?"

“Alright.” John smiles, letting Sherlock help him to bed.

Sherlock presses a kiss to his lips. "Mrs Hudson baked. Can I get you something? Tea? Scone? Biscuits?"

John hums and kisses him back. “She must have been worried sick.” He sighs. “Tea and some biscuits would be grand.”

"You have *no* idea." Sherlock smirks. "Back soon." And he slipped out the bedroom door.

John smiles softly and gets comfortable on Sherlock’s silky sheets. He never really spent time in Sherlock’s room before.

A few minutes later, Sherlock arrives with a tea tray. "Here we are." He smiles softly.

“Thank you.” John smiles. “Your room is interesting.”

"You've been in it before..." He feels embarrassed.

“Really? When?” John tries to remember. “Oh after Adler I put you to bed.”

"Several times, I've been told. I was quite drugged." He smiles.

“You were. You kept trying to get out of bed and do things. I threatened to tie you up and keep you in bed. You got all flustered.” John smirks.

"I wonder why that might've been..." Sherlock smirked. "I've always had a bondage kink, you know." He blushed suddenly. "Not that you needed to ever know that." He flustered.

“Oh I think that’s very vital information that I need to know a lot more about.” John licks his lips.

"*When you're better*." SHerlock said with a beet-red face. "Jesus, John..."

“A man can dream.” John shrugs and sips his tea. “All I know is I’m going to enjoy whatever we do.”

Sherlock laughed softly. "You don't even know half of it, John." He muses, mostly to himself.

“Oh really? Is this blushing Virgin ploy all an act then?” John raises a brow.

Sherlock chokes on a biscuit.

“Might as well put all our cards out on the table.” John pats Sherlock back.

"Honestly, John..." He rasps. "If you really want to know..."

“I want to know whatever you’re willing to tell me. And I’ll answer whatever questions you have for me.” John says softly, handing Sherlock a cup of tea to help his throat.

Sherlock takes the tea. "I...John, you should know, that I...." He hedges. "Before I became the consulting detective you know...." He stops. "In Uni I...." ARGH why was this so hard to tell John?

“Stripper? Escort maybe? You’d make a lot of money as a rent boy.” John hums.

Sherlock bit his lip. "I sold myself... for drugs... I was a rent boy, I... I even did some low caliber porn."

“Were you consenting?” John asks softly.

"Most of the time." He whispers softly.

“Come here.” He says softly, gently tugging Sherlock against him.

Sherlock snuggles against him. "I'm sorry, John..." He whispers. "I am clean... I have regular check ups at Mycroft's insistence..." He lets a tear slip from his eye.

“Oh, love, no. I wasn’t even thinking about that.” John holds him tight. “I’m sorry that you went through all of that. I’m sure none of it was pleasant. I’m guessing it’s also why you’re skiddish when people talk about sex.” He kisses his head softly and wipes his tears.

Sherlock bites his lip to prevent more tears. "John, what did I do to deserve you?"

“You saved my life.” John says softly.

Sherlock whimpers. " You saved mine..."

John holds Sherlock tight. “The day we met I was planning on killing myself that night. I was taking my last walk when I ran into Stamford.”

Sherlock kisses him hard. "I would have never let that happen..."

John kisses him back, trembling a bit. “I know. I know. You completely changed my life.”

"John..." Sherlock whines, trying not to let his erection bother John, knowing he should recover first. He'll have a wank in the bathroom later.

“Can I touch you? Please let me touch you.” John begs.

Sherlock hedges for a moment, before nodding slowly.

John kisses him softly and slowly opens Sherlock’s tight trousers.

Sherlock whimpers with want and need. "John..."

“I know, love. I know.” John holds Sherlock with one arms while his free hand slowly pulls his cock out.

Sherlock whines softly. "Joooohn..."

“I’ve got you.” John kisses him and strokes him slowly.

Sherlock surges forward and kisses him deeply.

John moans, stroking Sherlock faster as they kiss. “Lube.” He mumbles.

Sherlock reaches for the drawer and pulls out the tube of KY. "John...." He moans.

John squirts some into his hand and strokes Sherlock with it. “Better?” He kisses his neck.

Sherlock whimpers and pumps his hips. "Yes, John...”

“Fuck my fist, baby. Just like that. You are so gorgeous. Good boy.” John says, compliments and praise falling from his lips.

Sherlock whimpers louder, pumping his hips with John's grip. "Fuck me, John..." He breathes.

“Soon, love. Soon. Want to watch you come like this.” John strokes him faster.

Sherlock bites his lips hard. "God... John..."

“Let go. I’m right here.” John rubs his thumb over the leaking top of Sherlock cock.

Sherlock whines as he gets closer.

John kisses him softly. “Come for me, my love.”

He cries out as he comes over John's fist. "Jjjooooooooooohnnnn...."

John strokes him through it and stops before he gets overly sensitive. “Good boy.” He holds him close.

Sherlock pants into John's hair. "John..." He whispers. "Oh, God... John..."

“You did so good. I’m so proud of you.” John nuzzles Sherlock.

"I....I want you to fuck me..." he whispers.

“Soon.” John nods.

Sherlock relaxes against him.

John cuddles him. He grabs a tissue from the bedside table and cleans them off.

Sherlock sighs softly.

“Alright?” John smiles softly.

"yeah..." sherlock smiles softly.

John smiles and kisses him softly. “Not exactly how I imagined our first time but I wouldn’t change it.”

Sherlock gives a slight chuckle and collapses next to him.

“Yore absolutely breathtaking when you come.” John smiles at him.

"I want to see you come..." Sherlock murmurs.

“I know, love.” John says softly.

"Can I?" He lowers his hand to John's pants, rubbing softly at the bulge.

John gasps softly and bites his lip. He knows he should be resting it all he wants is Sherlock’s hand touching him. “Yes. Just slow and gentle.”

He gently rubs a hand over John's shaft, and engorged balls. "God, these are lovely..." He murmurs.

“Sherlock..” John groans, melting against the bed as he holds onto Sherlock.

Sherlock moans softly, alternating presses and strokes. “I love you, John..." Hr murmurs.

“I love you. I love you too. So much.” John gasps.

he strokes, faster, harder, murmuring John’s name. "come for me, john..."

John kisses him hard and comes over his hand.

Sherlock smiled softly, stroking him through the aftershocks.

John groans and collapses back against the bed.

Sherlock slowly cleans them up with a wad of tissues, before lying back on the bed.

John pulls him close and relaxes.

Sherlock presses his nose into John's hair, breathing deeply. "Sleep, John..." He whispers.

“Mm..” John agrees softly, already starting to drift off.

Sherlock falls asleep, arm wrapped around John tenderly.

John sleeps deeply, his body working hard to heal him.

Sherlock wakes in the night and does his best to get John gently under the covers without waking him, before changing into his own pajamas.

John mumbles softly, reaching for Sherlock in his sleep.

"Shh, love... go back to sleep." Sherlock murmurs. "I'll be back shortly."

“Mm..” John goes back to sleep.

He licks his lips and presses a kiss to John's temple, before heading to the loo.

He hums softly, mumbling.

Coming back from the bathroom, Sherlock slips quietly under the covers and pulls John into his side.

John snuggles into him best he can with his leg all bandaged up.

Sherlock falls deeply asleep again.

John wakes early, his pain meds having worn off.

Sherlock is wrapped protectively around John's side, breathing slowly and deeply.

John holds Sherlock close, watching him sleep.

"Hmm.." Sherlock's eyes flutter. "John?" He asks, softly. "Are you all right?"

“I’m alright. Just a little sore.” John pets Sherlock's head.

Sherlock smiles softly. "That feels nice."

“Yeah?” He smiles softly.

"Mhmm..." Sherlock nods sleepily.

John leans in and kisses his forehead softly.

"Do you need me to get your pills?" He whispers.

“If you don’t mind.” John sighs softly. He hates taking the pills but he knows he’ll heal faster if he isn’t in pain.

Sherlock nods and drags himself from the warmth. Padding to the bathroom, he gathers a glass of water and the pills.

“Thanks, love.” John takes his pills.

Sherlock smiles and sits on the side of the bed.

“Any plans for the day?” John smiles softly.

"Mmm. Not really. I've told Lestrade that I'm looking after you, so he won't disturb us." Sherlock said. "Told him he owes us for getting us into a situation where you got shot."

John snorts. “Making him feel nice and guilty, mm?”

"Oh, you have no idea." Sherlock smirks. "I am rather good at that..."

“Mm true.” John chuckles and kisses him.

Sherlock smiles into the kiss.

John nuzzles him happily.

"What do you want to do today?" Sherlock hummed.

“Mm a lot of sitting apparently.” John hums. “How long till you start bouncing off the walls?”

"I can sort through cases over emails." Sherlock smiles.

“Alright.” John chuckles. “Help me hobble to the loo and I’ll sit out in the living room with you.”

Sherlock smiles and helps him up. "Careful. Mrs H will be up with a fry up in ten minutes."

“Right.” John nods and uses Sherlock’s as support to get to the bathroom.

Sherlock helped him into the bathroom, giving him privacy to freshen up, before helping him to the table in the sitting room, just as Mrs Hudson opened the front door.  
"Hoo-hoo, oh, John, dear... look at you!" She admonished. "Here, I've got your favourite all ready for you." She smiled and put a plate of eggs, bacon, sausage, beans and toast in front of him. "Now don't go letting that get cold! And here's yours, Sherlock."  
Sherlock nodded and accepted the plate of eggs on toast.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. You know just how to make things better.” John smiles up at her.

Mrs Hudson smiled and pottered about, making tea for them, for a few moments, before bringing it over to them. "Now, I've put some lunch and dinner things in the fridge for you boys. I'm off to visit my sister today, and I'll be home rather late, if not tomorrow morning, so do take care of each other." She gave her boys a hug each and puttered out of the flat, humming a little cheerful tune.  
"I think..." Sherlock murmured. "That was her way of saying that we won't have to worry about any noise complaints." His eyes glittered with humour.

“Oh Christ.” John blushes. “I mean it’s not like we can do too much.”

Sherlock snorted softly. "True, but the thought is what counts, I suppose."

“Apparently she thinks we’re going to be having plenty of loud rigorous sex.” John laughs.

"Well, she has been hoping that for five years, now." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“I’m guessing you told her we’re together now.” John smiles softly.

"She came to see you in hospital. Caught me dozing next to you."

“Mm you gave it away.” John chuckles.

"She would have figured it out eventually."

“That’s true. You’re not exactly quiet.” John smirks as he eats his breakfast.

"Hey!" Sherlock sounds indignant, but has a smile on his face. "I can't help that you're extremely good at making me.... *vocal*..." He purrs the last word.

“If I didn’t have seven stitches in my thigh I’d make you very vocal again right now.” John licks his lips, looking Sherlock up and down.

Sherlock inhaled sharply. "Dammit John, you're *supposed* to be resting." He muttered.

“I’m perfectly capable of resting and teasing at the same time.” John smirks.

Sherlock purses his lips. "Perhaps I'm not capable of helping you rest and reacting to your teasing at the same time..." He whines softly.

“I’m sorry. I’ll behave.” John squeezes Sherlock’s hand. “You know what they say, doctors make the worst patients.”

"You're proving that rumor to be true." Sherlock smiled, kissing him smugly. "I like it when you misbehave."

“Mm yeah yeah.” John kisses him back.

Sherlock chuckles softly. "You're impossible."

“I’ve got to keep up with you somehow.” He grins.

Sherlock bursts out laughing. "Eat your breakfast, *doctor*."

John chuckles and goes back to eating.

Sherlock shakes his head and eats his own breakfast. "So, I will acquiesce to watching crap telly or your silly Bond movies all day, if that's what you want... but I ask that I be allowed to complain to my own content."

“Mm it wouldn’t be watching something without your running commentary of complaints.” John smiles.

Sherlock smirks. "You're too kind." He muses. "What do you wanna watch?”

“Bond marathon.” John grins.

"And which one are we starting with?" Sherlock smirks.

“From the beginning, Dr. No.” John hums happily.

Sherlock gave a long-suffering sigh. "If we must." He grinned.

“You really do love me.” John kisses his cheek.

"Do I?" He teases softly. "I must, if I have to sit through these awful movies... again." He winked.

“You love yelling at the Telly too.” John laughs.

Sherlock smirks. "I really don't understand your fascination with this so-called 'superspy', but I will indulge." He grinned.

“He’s cool and suave.” John chuckles, he wouldn’t admit it but he might have had a small crush on Sean Connery.

"Oh, you like the Scottish one... that's why we always start with Dr No." Sherlock smirked. "Hmm... I'm rubbish at that particular Scottish accent, unfortunately."

“Oh god.” John blushes a bit and laughs.

Sherlock grins slightly. "What?"

“Nothing.” John chuckles. “Did you know? Before?”

"John..." Sherlock gives an amused look. "*Really*?"

“What? You never let on.” John chuckles.

"Hard to miss your sharp inhale when he first arrives on screen." Sherlock smirks. "Plus all those other movies you have with him in it... Common denominator."

“Why did you never say anything?” John looks at Sherlock as he eats.

"Because... It was a harmless crush?" Sherlock looks confused. "Should I have?"

“I.. I don’t know.” John shrugs. “If you knew I had feelings for men why didn’t you ever say anything?”

"Everyone has unconscious feelings for something. I figured that's what it was." He smiles.

“I thought about bringing a guy home once.” He hums.

Sherlock blinks. "Oh?"

“Mmhmm.” John nods.

"And... Who was the lucky fellow?" He murmurs. "Won't pretend I wouldn't have been jealous."

“Just a bloke from the pub. The whole point was to make you jealous.” John chuckles. “I mean at least I hoped it would.”

Sherlock gives a small smile. "Well, it would have worked. But you would have had to deal with my mood on an apocalyptic level."

“You almost had a coronary when you met Sholto.” John smirks.

Sherlock's lips twitch in a small smile. "Yes, well... I'm very... Possessive when I want to be."

“You know Sholto is in the past, yeah?” John says softly.

Sherlock nods. "Yeah, I do..." He murmurs.

“Sherlock?” He says softly.

"Hmm?"

“Have you ever dated anyone?”

Sherlock is quiet for a long moment. "...Not... not really."

“I’ll fix that.” John nods.

He gives a small smile. "I've been broken for a very long time." He murmurs.

“You act like I’m not.” John takes his hand gently.

He squeezes John's hand. "A lot less broken than I..." He chuckles, bringing the hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but I’m ready to listen whenever.” John smiles softly.

Sherlock sighed. "You're supposed to be recuperating, not listening to me complain about the shitty hand life dealt me." He gave a grin.

“Sherlock, I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I want to know everything about you.”

Sherlock scrubs at his face. "It started in University..." He mumbles. "My tuition was paid, and I had a stipend for food and essentials. I was offered drugs at a floor party."

John nods, listening. He gently rubs his thumb over Sherlock’s knuckles.

"I got hooked... I used my stipend to fund my habit." He bit the inside of his cheek. "When that ran out, I turned to sexual favours, and escort work, and ... Porn."

“Was it always cocaine?”

"Yes. I did branch out. Tried heroin, methamphetamines, but cocaine was the one that sharpened my senses the best."

John nods. “Do you think it made you better?”

Sherlock snorts. "I did at the time. It certainly helped me disassociate from being used as a cumbucket." He added softly. "Their words, not mine."

“I’m sorry you had to disassociate to get through that.”

Sherlock shrugs. "I was young. Stupid. Didn't know better."

“Still.”

"Still what? I disassociated... It happened. I'm not proud of my past... But I'm not angry, either." He sighed.

“Fair enough.” John nods.

Sherlock gave a tight smile. "Doesn't mean I don't want to be with you, though..."

“I think we’ve established we want to be together.” John smiles softly and squeezes his hand. “And I’ll keep believing that until you tell me otherwise.”

Sherlock kisses John's hand again.

John smiles softly. “Eat your breakfast or Mrs. Hudson will get cross.”

Sherlock smiled and ate the eggs on toast quietly.

John hums softly, finishing his breakfast.

"Shall we watch your Scottish crush, then?" Sherlock asked with a small smile.

“Only if you make fun of the plot holes.” John smiles softly.

"There won't be a quiet moment throughout the entire movie." Sherlock smirked.

“That’s my boy.” John grins, letting Sherlock help him over to the couch.

Sherlock laughed softly and helped John get comfortable, before queueing up the movie on the television.

John holds his arms open so Sherlock can come cuddle into him.

Sherlock sits on the couch and snuggles close.

John hums happily and kisses Sherlock’s head.

Sherlock chuckles. "I'm not a high profile Scottish actor." He murmurs.

“Mm no.” He agrees. “You’re better.”

Sherlock grins. "Better than Sean Connery? That *is* high praise."

“You better believe it, baby.” John chuckles and kisses him.

Sherlock moans into the kiss.

John kisses him for a long minute before pulling away.

Sherlock moans softly at the loss of contact.

“Still got it.” John smirks.

Sherlock huffs. "Cruel, Captain Watson..." He breathes.

“Oh believe me. As soon as I’m healed I’ll make good on all this teasing if you want it.” John kisses his forehead.

Sherlock sighs, both dejected and annoyed, but smirks anyway. "Damned injuries."

“How about you make a list of everything you want to do after I’m better and when I get the all clear you can give me the list?”

"A list would be far too long." Sherlock laughed quietly. "I want to do *everything* with you... Everything that we can think of."

“Sounds good to me.” John holds him close.

Sherlock smiles and lays down, his head on John's lap as the movie progresses.

John pets his hair gently.

The movie progresses and Sherlock keeps up a running commentary.

John giggles and laughs at Sherlock comments.

Sherlock smiles and slowly begins nuzzling at John's crotch.

“Sherlock.” John snorts.

"Mmm?" He murmurs, still nuzzling.

“You’re not watching the movie.” John chuckles.

"Hmm." He acquiesced.

“I’m sure you’re having more fun doing that though.”

"Mhmm..." He murmured, nuzzling John's groin in earnest.

“If you keep that I’m gonna get hard.”

Sherlock smirks and let's his tongue dart out to lick the crotch of John's pajama pants.

“Sherlock.” John groans softly.

"Yes, John?" Sherlock asks, still indulging in minute ministrations with his nose, breath and mouth.

“It’s going to be very difficult to keep you out of my pants.” John pets his hair.

"So why try?" Sherlock grins, wetting his lips.

John gets distracted as he watches Sherlock mouth. “I umm..”

Sherlock looks up at him as he opens John’s fly.

John’s cock is already half hard and big.

Sherlock presses his mouth against John cock with a kiss. "You want me to stop?'

“Well as long as you’re down there..” John licks his lips.

Sherlock chuckles softly, nuzzling the huge cock.

John pets Sherlock’s hair softly, watching him. His cock only grows the more Sherlock pays attention to it.

Sherlock gives the expanding flesh tiny kitten licks, waiting for him to become fully aroused.

“Christ, you really are going to be the death of me.” John tips his head back.

He chuckles before taking John in his mouth, relaxing his throat to take him entirely.

“Fuck, love.” He groans, holding Sherlock’s head.

Sherlock begins to suck him in earnest, humming softly.

“You have a perfect mouth.” John moans.

He moans softly.

He pants, his cock twitching.

Sherlock massages the underside of John's cock with his tongue, and sucks softly, humming. Pulling up, he looks at John with lust darkened eyes. "Cum in my mouth, John..." He whispers.

“Yes yes.” He nods, his fat cock throbbing.

Sherlock hurriedly swallows him down again, with ease.

John moans as he comes hard.

Sherlock swallows against John, moaning in pleasure, riding his aftershocks with him.

John pants, head thrown back against the couch.

Sherlock slowly pulls away and rests his head on John's thigh, looking extremely satisfied with himself.

“Git.” John chuckles softly, caressing his face.

"What?” He smirked.

“You’re going to suck me dry at this point.”

"I thought I just did." He winks.

He chuckles and looks down at Sherlock, smiling dopily.

"Bet Sean Connery wouldn't do that." He observed, cheekily.

“That’s for sure.” John chuckles.

Sherlock grins and looks at the TV, shifting slightly. He'd have a wank later.

“Need help with that?” John gently tugs on a curl.

Sherlock smirks. "You, dear Doctor, are supposed to be recuperating. Don't worry about me."

“I worry about you no matter what.” John chuckles.

Sherlock snickered. "I suppose I'm responsible for that."

“Mmhmm.” John chuckles.

"Just sit back and relax. I'm not doing anything worrisome. I'll take care of myself when I have the energy to move." He grinned.

“Mm alright. Just let me know.” He lets his hair.

Sherlock practically purrs. "You can tell me what you want to do to me when you're all healed."

“Oh a lot of things. Mostly involving my fingers, tongue, and cock.” John smirks.

Sherlock hummed, hand slipping into his trousers. "Tell me..."

“I want to lick you. Everywhere.” John licks his lips.

Sherlock closes a first around his cock, slowly beginning to stroke. "Yes?"

“I’ll start with your mouth, down your neck, to your chest. I’ll tease your nipples till you’re squirming for me.”

Sherlock's breath hitches, his eyes closing. "Mmm..."

“Then I’ll go lower and lower. Kissing your hips and thighs. Massaging your thighs.”

"John..." He whispers.

“I’d lay you on your back putting your legs over my shoulders. Kissing down your cock and balls. Until I got to your arsehole.”

“I swear you wear trousers three sizes too tight just to tease me with your arse.”

Sherlock gives a breathy chuckle. "Merely well-tailored..." He moans softly.

“Oh please. If you did one squat your trousered would split and you’re arse would be out in the wind.” John chuckles. “Sorry. Got distracted. I’d kiss your arse. Maybe a little nibble.”

Sherlock bit his lip, nodding. "God yes..."

“Then I’d run my tongue over your arsehole. Just a taste. My hot wet tongue against your twitching sensitive hole.”

Sherlock groans, pumping faster. "Jooohhhnnn..." He moaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

“And I’d pull you tight against my face as I slowly fucked you with my tongue.”

Sherlock ruts against his hand, biting his lip against the whimpers in his throat.

“Come.” John tugs Sherlock’s hair sharp but gentle.

Sherlock cries out softly as he comes over his hand, calling John's name.

“Good boy.” John praises softly.

Sherlock murmurs softly, relaxing bonelessly against John's lap.

John pets his hair.

He looks up at John with a sleepy smile.

“Okay?” He smiles softly.

"Mhmm..." Sherlock nods.

John takes a napkin and gently cleans Sherlock up.

Sherlock huffs with quiet laughter. "Always thinking of my needs..." He mumbled.

“Someone has to.” John chuckles softly.

Sherlock smirks. "I suppose that's true."

John smiles softly. “Want to go to bed and cuddle?”

Sherlock hums a little, nodding. "It's only early afternoon." He murmurs. But he helps John up anyway.

“When have you ever observed normal hours?” John chuckles and uses Sherlock’s help to get to bed.

"I don't. But you and your military precision do." He grins.

“What can I say? You’re wearing me down.” He chuckles.

He wrinkles his nose in amusement. "And here I was thinking I was doing the *opposite*."

“Depends.” He smiles.

"On what?" Sherlock smirks.

“Which bit you want to wear down or keep hard.” John snorts.

"Oh, if the fates would allow it, I'd keep you hard, *constantly*." Sherlock flashes a wicked grin.

“See?” John chuckles.

Sherlock smirks. "Cheeky..." He kisses John slowly.

“You love it.” John kisses him back.

"Your cock? Yes, I do..." Sherlock smirks. "But I also love you."

John smiles softly. “I love you too.”

Sherlock snuggles into his side like a cat.

John cuddles him close.

Sherlock dozes lightly.

John nods off.

Sherlock stretches slightly, waking up. He smiles down at John and gently runs fingers through his hair.

John mumbles softly, seeking out Sherlock's touch in his sleep.

"Shh, John..." He murmurs. "Sleep..."

John pulls Sherlock closer and sleeps.

Sherlock hums a tune under his breath to calm him.

John relaxes, snoring softly.

Sherlock smiles softly, getting up to use the bathroom, before returning to bed.

John sleeps hard, his body working hard to heal him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment and let us know what you think!


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